Worst Fears?
by tjw242
Summary: A Oneshot of OC!Sara whom everyone believes had the perfect upbringing, but when it's her turn to face a Boggart in Dark Arts class, many questions are raised.


***Hey guys, since you're here, that means you made it through over 700 THOUSAND stories and made it to mine. _Sooo_, thanks. This is my first HP fanfic, and if you like what you see, I'd be happy to give anything you suggest a go. Reviews/questions will be happily answered!  
****Njut***

_Worst Fears?_

As soon as Professor Lupin announced what they were doing that lesson, Sara knew she was fucked.

Frantically repeating the spell _— Riddikulus — _over and over again in her head until it became one jumbled mess of sounds, she hesitantly lined up to face the Boggart.

She giggled along with everyone else as Neville made Professor Snape appear in women's clothing, but her laughter was soon quelled when she realised Neville had left the front of the line— she was next.

She could feel the lump in her throat, and a shaking hand raised her wand, ready to simply shout the spell and not even look at what she knew she would be faced with. The Boggart was too quick. Sara was sure she was the only one who saw the malicious smirk on Snape's face before the creature skittered back into the closet, the door letting out an uneasy squeak.

Students leaned left and right from their places in line to catch a glimpse of what was going on. At first Remus had thought his student had already cast the spell, but when he saw how pale Sara was and how much her hands were shaking, he saw that the Boggart was only playing with her.

The closet door opened. Slowly, cruelly. A hand, unmistakably a teenage boy's, grasped the edge. The nails were short; bitten off repeatedly. The knuckles were red, and scratched. The blonde would know that hand anywhere— she knew the groove of the knuckles, she knew the sound it made as it hit her. She knew what was coming.

The door swung open, and a teenage boy stepped forth. Strawberry blonde hair, freckles, startling blue eyes that quickly turned from incomprehension to malice. The boy took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Sara.

The students by now where totally shocked, _this_ is _Sara's_ biggest fear?

"D-don't," she rasped, all strength long gone. The boy took one more step. The girl attempted the spell, but could barely speak.

"Just the same," the boy mused, His voice rang clear; not a single person in the room moved except for the Boggart's menacing pace. "Weak, as always."

One more step. Sara was trying not to cry, scream, something. Her raised hand was shaking uncontrollably— her wand useless.

"You've never gotten over it, have you?" the boy's smile grew. Professor Lupin stood up from the desk he was leaning against and started to come around Sara, who was staring at the Boggart in terror.

"You can't forget what I did to you!" With that, the boy stepped forward, and raised his hand as if to hit her in the face. Of course, the Professor stepped in front and banished the Boggart without it ever touching Sara.

When the fiasco was over, the class's attention turned back to the student, who had fallen to the ground when the mystery boy looked like he was going to hit her. Everyone stood in silence. Professor Lupin went to help Sara up, muttering meaningless encouragement, but she shot to her feet and darted from the room before anyone could stop her.

~ O ~

"Sara?"

The blonde pressed her head closer to her knees, trying unsuccessfully to shut out the world. A familiar hand on her shoulder made the fifteen-year old finally uncurl and fall into her only friend's waiting arms. The Ravenclaw sobbed then, something Dean had never seen. And though he was the most curious of all the students to witness the last DADA class, he bit his tongue and let her cry.

"Was… Was that Jake?" He asked when she'd leaned back and was wiping at her face furiously. Sara nodded in between scrunching up her sleeves to use as makeshift tissues.

"I just…" she muttered, "I just don't understand why… The B-boggart, I couldn't just say the st-stupid spell…" The Gryffindor held his friend close as she burst into tears again.

"Come on," he crooned, "let's go."

He pulled the other fourth-year to her feet, and they set off to… Well, that's another story.


End file.
